


Waiting for You

by undernightlight



Series: Gays in Space [12]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s03e23 Countdown, Hayes gets to live, M/M, Malcolm is there to support him, mentally and physically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-21 08:36:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16573241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undernightlight/pseuds/undernightlight
Summary: Ensign Sato has been taken by the Xindi. The crew must retrieve her and destroy the weapon before it's too late. Malcolm finds it harder to deal with the death of crewmen under his command, including the MACOS; one of the hardest things is telling Major Hayes that he's lost another soldier.AU in which Hayes doesn't die. Including and post s03e23 Countdown.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> These two will forever be my favourite Enterprise pairing, though Malcolm and Trip do come in second. There is a lot of...I guess repeating? as this sets up more for the future chapters, just like, understanding Malcolm and such.
> 
> But yeah, enjoy!

Malcolm still wasn’t sure if he should say anything. He was more sure he shouldn’t, that he should let his feeling pass and everything would be fine, but there was something in the bad of his mind telling him to do it. Malcolm didn’t know what purpose that voice served, but it was there.

What would he even say to Hayes? Malcolm didn’t even know his first name, and yet there was something about the Major that kept Malcolm captivated, especially since their mutual beating. He was in pain for quite some time after, struggling to see out of his left eye, affecting his duty, but there was something other than adrenaline that kept his heart rate up. They worked better after that. Whenever Malcolm passed him, his breath got caught in his throat and his voice ceased to be. There were feelings there before, lingering in the furthest depth of his mind, and yet now...Malcolm didn’t know what to do with himself when they were in the same room. He was conscious of every movement, every word he spoke, every breath he took. He didn’t know how to stand or where to put his hands, and when they crossed paths, leaning over each other to reach some piece of equipment or weapon, he retracted into himself, unable to risk being so close without acting.

T’Pol’s voice snapped him back as the shuttle began to dock with the Enterprise; his mind drifted to Hayes more and more when given the opportunity to wander from the mission. Despite everything he felt for the Major, he dreaded seeing him now, having to tell him another crewman was killed, another MACO. Hawkins was under his protection, and he failed to keep him alive.

He let Mayweather and T’Pol leave the shuttle first, hoping Hayes wouldn’t be waiting. He heard Trip’s voice, talking with the other two about their visit to the sphere. When Malcolm stepped out, Hayes was waiting. The Major looked passed him but didn’t see his soldier.

“Where’s Corporal Hawkins?”

“The sphere...had an automated defence mechanism. He was killed. I’m sorry Major.”

Hayes looked at him, his mouth moving slightly as if trying to find the right words, but nothing came. He swallowed hard, his jaw clenching, his eyes dropped from Malcolm’s to the floor. “I’m sure you did everything you could.” There was something in his voice that hurt Malcolm, like Hayes didn’t believe the words he was saying; Malcolm wasn’t sure who those words were meant to comfort. “I’d appreciate a full report.” Malcolm nodded, having nothing to say, knowing no words could make the loss any better. Then Hayes turned and left, and Malcolm just watched him leave. He had to swallow hard too just to make room in his throat to breathe.

He should get to the bridge, or to the armory, but he just stood there for some time after, staring at the floor or door or shuttle. He couldn’t think straight, another man dead and he felt Hawkins’ blood on his hands; it was hard sometimes to not take it all on board, to blame himself for everything. Hayes’ words kept floating around. He did everything he could, he was sure, but what if he hadn’t? What if he missed something, something that could’ve saved a life, but he didn’t, too focused on the success of their mission than their lives.

Eventually his feet began to carry him on impulse to the bridge. He took command, Archer elsewhere, T’Pol in the lab with Trip. He was in command and it’d been a long time since he’d felt this unsure of himself.

# # # # # #

“Report,” Captain Archer said as he stepped back onto the bridge.

“Six vessels approaching sir, all Aquatic.”

Archer spoke with them. They’d help stop the Reptilians and the Insectoids from launching the weapon, from destroying Earth, but Malcolm was worried it wouldn’t be enough, that they wouldn’t be able to save their home.The ship flew into chaos from that moment forward, everyone working to get done what was needed. The Aquatics would help the reach the weapon through a vortex. Malcolm found himself better suited to being in the armory than on the bridge.

He entered, scanning the hectic room, before descending the stairs, pad in hand. He spotted Hayes quickly, the only stationary figure in the room, hovering over a control panel. “Have you settled your boarding part?” He asked as he approached the Major.

“Ready to deploy on your command.”

“I only wish I was leading it myself.” That way, Hayes would be out of harm; enough people had died on this mission, people he was supposed to protect. If he lost his life...Malcolm though it only seemed fair to be at risk.

“You’re place is on the bridge, sir.” There was a note of hostility in Hayes’ voice that Malcolm picked up on immediately, as the Major walked away. Malcolm watched him, then followed, bounding up the steps to the centre console where Hayes now stood.

“No offence Major, it’s just that Ensign Sato is a friend.” Hayes didn’t look at him. Malcolm glanced to the pad in his hand. “Here’s my report on Corporal Hawkins.”

The Major took it and set it on the console. “Thank you,” he said, his tone now unfeeling, cold, distant, and it hurt Malcolm more than he thought it would. When they first met, Malcolm would’ve been happy with the formal tone, but now, it didn’t sit right with him. They weren’t friends, but were they not more than just officers? “Would you like to go over my rescue plan?” Clear disdain.

Malcolm adjusted himself, folding his arms across his chest, back toward the bulkhead ready to support his weight if he needed it. “First, I’d like to know if...we have a problem.” He came across more aggressive, defensive, than he meant to. His folded arms probably didn’t help that.

Hayes looked to him. “Sir?” Cold.

“If you blame me for the Corporal’s death?” It didn’t matter what Hayes said, Malcolm already blamed himself. At this point, he should’ve been able to distance himself, at least enough to not do this, but this mission, so many people lost, and Hawkins seemed like just one too many.

He could see Hayes biting his tongue, struggling to find the words within regulation that would allow him to say what he felt. “Permission to speak freely?” Malcolm nodded, now mentally bracing himself for the attack he deserved. “I’ve never liked putting my people under someone else’s command. You’re senior tactical officer but they’re my team, and I can’t help but think that…” Hayes turned his body to face Malcolm, “if I’d been there, things might’ve turned out differently.”

“I did everything I could - things happened very fast.”

“I understand-”

“I’m not finished.” Malcolm wasn’t sure who these words were for. “Hawkins may well have been a MACO, but he was my responsibility out there.” He couldn’t meet the Major’s eyes, he wouldn’t dare for risk of breaking down. When he finally managed to look up, Hayes met his eyes and nodded, before dropping his gaze himself.

“When we first came aboard Enterprise, we definitely felt like outsiders.”

“If I contributed to that, I apologise.”

“My point is, none of us feel that way anymore. We’re all apart of the same crew no matter which uniform we wear. Don’t worry about Ensign Sato, we’ll bring her home.” Malcolm nodded to Hayes’ words, a silent thank you, before turning and heading back down the stairs. He didn’t stay in the armory, instead heading back to the bridge. Archer would be taking to the captain’s mess soon with Trip and T’Pol, so he was needed there to take command.

His feet carried him slowly, knowing he had some time to spare. He saw Hayes’ eyes water before he spoke so freely and it hurt Malcolm to know he caused that pain, despite it being unintentional. The Major’s words did help though, unlike what Malcolm expected. He still blamed himself but hearing how Hayes spoke about the crew taking the MACOs on board, that they no longer felt apart, somehow helped. But Malcolm also knew he’d help isolate them to begin with, especially Hayes, distancing himself as much as possible for the military – it was almost ironic that it would be him Malcolm would fall for.

# # # # # #

“Bridge to the Captain,” Malcolm called down the comms.

“Go ahead.”

“We’re approaching the coordinates.”

“Tactical alert, I’m on my way.”

The lieutenant now only had to wait for that Captain to reach the bridge, and he arrived minutes before they were to leave the vortex, to stop the Xindi weapon before it was too late. Malcolm took his post, ready for the fire fight that was sure to be difficult, but they couldn’t afford to lose. Malcolm was ready to fight them, the fleet of Reptilian sheets approaching. And the fighting began, all efforts of the ship focused on destroying the weapon, targeting the primary generators. They had nearly twenty ships on their side, fighting however many the Reptilians had, but even if they were outnumbered, they would win the fight.

“Captain, I’ve located Ensign Sato,” T’Pol said, “She’s on board one of the Reptilian vessels.”

“Can you get a transporter lock?” Archer replied.

“She’s somewhere on the first few decks, I can’t pinpoint her location.”

“Send Major Hayes and his team.”

Malcolm nodded. “Aye sir,” and he hesitated, but asked, “Permission to join them?”

“Lieutenant, you’re needed on the bridge.”

“I have extensive field combat training, I can help.”

“You’re needed here Malcolm, no way you’re going.”

Archer was right, he knew that, but he still clenched his jaw to stop from saying anything else. He wanted to go, he needed to go, to not only get Hoshi back safely but to protect the Major. Hayes was a capable man, but Malcolm would feel far better being there himself. But the Captain said no, so he kept his mouth shut.

The fire fight continued, their torpedoes doing all they could, but they had the upper hand, the Aquatics providing a substantial advantage. So they kept firing on the weapon. The MACOs were aboard the Reptilian ship, searching for Hoshi, Malcolm just hoped everyone would make it back alive. He had faith in Hayes and his team to bring the young Ensign back, he was just worried one of them wouldn’t.

Then, over the comm lines, a crackled voice came through. “Hayes to Enterprise.”

“Enterprise here,” the Captain responded.

“We’ve located Ensign Sato. She’s unconscious but alive.”

“Can we beam them back?” He asked T’Pol.

“No. They should get back to the beam in point.”

The information was relayed over, Hayes confirmed, then the line cut. Malcolm felt a knot in his stomach, just knowing they were still aboard the ship, still in danger. Their ship then jolted, anomalies forming around them and between them and the weapon. A ripple travelled through the metal and control panels blew, sparks flying.

“Hayes to Enterprise, we’re at the beam in point.”

“Archer to Tucker, lock on to Major Hayes.”

Trip replied, “Wish I could sir,” and the sound of circuits shorting could be heard in the background. “That last anomaly knocked the transporter offline. Tell them to stand by.”

“Archer to Hayes, we’re got a malfunction. Can you hold your position?”

Affirmative,” yet there was the sound of fire in the background, dangerously clear. Malcolm was finding it harder to breath, any food in his stomach threatening to come back up at the thought of them not making it back safely. It was a waiting game now, waiting for the transporter to be back online, waiting for them all to be back aboard. But Malcolm had to focus on the task at hand, destroying that weapon, but the anomalies were making it impossible to get through.

“Tucker to bridge. We’ve got them, but two MACOs were injured, including Hayes. He’s in a bad shape but getting him to sick bay now.” Malcolm’s heart rate spiked. No, no. If only he’d been there, maybe things would’ve been different...but he was on the bride where he was supposed to be, where he belonged, doing his job, yet he felt guilty.

“Get it done Trip,” Archer replied before he was interrupted by T’Pol.

“Captain, the power readings from the weapon are increasing.” 

“They’re preparing for launch.” This wasn’t good, this definitely wasn’t good.

“Get us close Travis.”

The helmsmen spoke up, “What about the anomalies?”

“I said take us in.”

They moved closer, navigating the danger as carefully as they could, but before they were in firing range, they were gone, through a vortex headed for Earth; they’d lost them. Everyone’s hearts sank, the weight of their world seeming heavier than ever before, but Malcolm couldn’t just sit there. “Permission to go to sick bay?” He was the first in the room to speak. Archer turned to him, looking crucially for a moment before nodded. Malcolm stood and headed to the turbolift as fast as he could, trying not to seem like he was rushing but he clearly was, and he hurried himself down the corridor, weaving passed people in his way.

The doors opened and he entered. He stopped briefly when he first say Hayes lying on the biobed, pale and coated in sweat, looking close to passing out. The injuries on his chest were clear phaser burns, but far worse than anything Malcolm had seen before. When his feet began to function again, he approached almost hesitantly.

Phlox stood by Hayes’ bedside. “Doctor,” he greeted.

“I told him I was ready for duty,” Hayes managed, strained and tired but somehow light, and Malcolm felt a small smile tug at his lips.

“I’m afraid he’s a bit of a mother hen.” And Hayes let out a small chucked.

“How’s Ensign Sato?”

Malcolm didn’t know. Malcolm had yet to ask about her. Phlox seemed to know that, relaying to Hayes that she’d be fine. Relief washed across Hayes’ pallid face and features. Malcolm reached out, gently placing a hand on the Major’s lower arm for support.

“Thank you...for bringing her home.”

“All in a day's work.” There was blood pooling in the corner of his mouth, disrupted when he spoke, and it began slowly trickling its way down his face. “Use McKenzie.”

“What?”

“She knows the team. Rely on her.”

No, no, no. Malcolm realised what he was implying and he wouldn’t allow it, he wouldn’t. “No more of that talk, that’s an order.” As Hayes was about to respond, his body jerked, shaking violently, his eyes rolling back and closing.

“Cardiac stimulator,” demanded Phlox in a collected way, somebody handing a device over. “Step away please,” he said to Malcolm, who after a second of hesitation, did as he was told. A jolt was send through the Major’s body, but nothing happened. “Increase by point two joules.” Another shock. Nothing. Malcolm watched the medical graphs displayed; Hayes’ heart rate was skyrocketing at a rate he’d never seen before. “We have to put him in a coma, quickly. I need 10 ccs of thiopental-metoprolol.” The entire room was frantic but sound was become a blur in his ears as Malcolm was only able to focus on Hayes. A spray was handed to Phlox in record time and the contents were injected into the Major’s neck. They all watched desperately at the screen, and tension in their chests began to dissipate as his vital signs began to fall back into an acceptable range.

Malcolm ran a hand through his hair, then he brought his other hand up and his fingers interlocked at the back of his neck, supporting the weight of his head. He let out a breath he was holding. Hayes was alive, thank god. Now Malcolm just had to hope it’d stay that way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this!

The weapon was destroyed. Earth was safe. Malcolm had been so busy and scared and pumped with adrenaline that he hadn’t thought about Major Hayes until he was in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling. There was still over a day before they’d get back to earth and it was driving Malcolm crazy. After so long of being focused on one mission, it seemed strange to have his mind free to think of other things. When he got back, he was still trying to cope with the loss of Captain Archer. He was trying to deal with it while he laid in bed. Archer knew the risk, but that didn’t make it easier to lose a Captain.

Malcolm pulled himself upright and swung his legs over his bunk. He pulled on sweatpants and a t-shirt and trainers, and left his quarters for sick bay. It was late, most of the crew asleep, so exhausted they’d all practically collapsed, yet he didn’t. When he entered, Phlox was still there as expected, feeding one of his many caged pets. The doctor noticed him come in instantly, smiling at the lieutenant.

Malcolm hovered at the end of the bed. “How’s the Major?” He asked Phlox.

“He’s stable, but there is nothing yet that can be done. His body will be able to repair some of the damage, but not completely, so we’ll have to wait until he’s conscious again before I can give a full diagnostic.” Malcolm nodded in response, not having anything to add. “He’ll be alright,” and again, Malcolm just nodded. His jaw tightened, he could feel his eyes begin to water. He blinked rapidly and frowned, hoping to will them away, but it didn’t seem to work. His hand drew up to cover his mouth, his other arm folded across his chest. “You should get some rest Lieutenant.”

“I couldn’t sleep even if I wanted too.”

“I could give you something for it.”

“No thank you, I...I’d rather stay for a while, if that’s alright.” Phlox didn’t say anything, just giving one short nod before leaving. Malcolm wasn’t fully sure what he was staying for, there was nothing he could do, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the Major’s side, not now.

The guilt of so much was eating away at him, of Archer, Hayes, the people under his command that died on the mission. Yes, all of Earth was safe, the Xindi weapon gone, but lives were still lost; every death was one death too many. He steadied his breathing, focused on preventing from breaking down as he stepped closed to Hayes’ body. He was so still. His chest was heavily bandaged, wrapping up and around one shoulder for support. His MACO pants were still stained with sweat and blood; Hayes valued a clean uniform.

After standing there quietly, Malcolm pulled out the small white stood tucked neatly under the bed and sat down. He dragged a hand down his face, resting his elbows against the mattress. Malcolm wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what. Nothing he could say would make any different, but he eventually found words leaving his mouth. “I...I wish I could’ve done more. More to help you and your men and the rest of the crew. I should’ve gone with you to rescue Ensign Sato, then I would’ve been there to watch your back at the beam out. You wouldn’t be here, like this, if I was there, if anybody else was there. I should’ve fought to be on that mission.” His voice cracked, and he rested his face against his raised hands, eyes closed. Silence fell. It was like he had so much he wanted to say but nothing mattered.

His hands unclasped, and cautiously, he lowered one and wrapped it around Hayes’, resting at his side, and he squeezed. It had been awhile since Malcolm truly wanted to cry, and not just because of Hayes. The crushing weight he thought would be lifted somehow felt heavier than ever.

# # # # # #

A gentle shake to the shoulder woke him. He must’ve fallen asleep. His neck was still as he righted himself, his head previously resting on Hayes’ upper arm, still unconscious. He squinted at the bright light and found Phlox standing over him.

“I believe you start your shift in about an hour lieutenant, and not to sound rude, but you may want to shower first.” Malcolm groaned but stood and stretched regardless.

“Thank you doctor.” He’d managed a few hours of sleep, more than he’d originally expected but still not enough to feel rested. Before he left, he glanced back to the biobed and asked, “What will happen with Major Hayes once we get back to Earth?”

“Well, he’ll most likely stay aboard as it’s still too dangerous to risk moving him. I’ll be staying on board also.”

Malcolm nodded before leaving and returning to his quarters. Upon entering, he immediately kicked off his shoes and began undressing to shower. He spent slightly longer than he needed to, for once not feeling rushed to get out; it was relaxing to let the hot water fall over him. Then he got ready for his shift, drying and dressing. The corridors were busier now. He took his post when he reached the bridge.

An hour later they reached home. They hailed. No response. No response from any communications station or from the Lunar Colony. Something wasn’t right. Commander Tucker and Ensign Mayweather took a shuttle down to see what the problem was. When they returned, it was very clear then that something was wrong.

The Enterprise picked up a transmission from America...Nazi America. Things weren’t clear, nobody was sure how this had happened, but it had, and now they were stuck in another time, 1944 Earth, a different Earth from their own where Germany waged a successful war in Europe and were now branching out across the Atlantic. But how did they get there was the question.

“It can’t be an accident that we’re here,” Malcolm spoke across.

“I’m inclined to agree,” T’Pol said, and Commander Tucker nodded in agreement, “However why we are here should not take precedence over how we can get back.

There plan was to beam Travis and Trip to the location of the shuttlepod stolen from them, by Silk, to try and find out what was going on. But then their signals were lost not long after they arrived on the planet; something must’ve happened, but Malcolm not dare speculate for his own mental stability. He refused to lose anybody else. There was little else he could do on the bridge, so he headed for the armory, allowing himself a detour to sick bay. He was sure he’d never spent so long in there, yet he found it the only place he wanted to be. Upon entering, he found two crewmen perched on beds, one he knew and one he didn’t, being fused over by Starfleet medical staff. Daniels was unconscious, tubes keeping him alive on the centre bed. Doctor Phlox was by Major Hayes’ bed taking reading. Malcolm approached, concerned.

“Is everything alright doctor?” He asked, and the denobulan turned.

“I should be asking you that lieutenant, I never see you so frequently.”

“I’m fine, just on my way to the armory and wanted to see how he was doing.” He looked to the still unconscious man, still with his chest wrapped and still in stained clothes. Malcolm didn’t like seeing him like this, there was something that just didn’t feel quite right.

“He’s doing the same as he was this morning, and last night. I was just checking his vitals again like I do every hour.” Phlox decided not to point out that sick bay and th armory were in opposite directions as he was sure the lieutenant already knew that. “Would you like me to inform you of any change in his condition?”

“Urm...yes please, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

“Not at all.”

Smiling a thanks, Malcolm left, making his way to his original destination. Things seemed chaotic when he arrived, people rushing from console to console, though there was no immediate threat. He taught them well, he thought, thinking them must be preparing for the worse; always better to be safe than sorry. And despite knowing that, Malcolm found it difficult to concentrate on his duties, his mind still too focused on Hayes and Archer and Trip and Travis. He was sure the last two were fine, that the ship would fne them and recover them and then they could get home. Archer...Malcolm knew he had to come to terms with it, but he didn’t want to, he wanted to believe that somehow Archer was still alive, that he was waiting safely somewhere for them in their time, that he managed to escape the destruction. He wanted to believe, but he also wasn’t stupid. He knew the odds, the likelihood that Archer was still alive were slim to none, though if he’d learnt anything from serving under him, there was always hope.

# # # # # #

A crackled call was coming through the systems, hard to hear, but the voice was unmistakable to all of them. “Captain Archer to Enterprise. Come in. Enterprise, come in. ”

All their faces shifted to surprise and confusion upon hearing the transmission. The voice surely was the Captain. Malcolm wanted to believe, but what if it was Silik in disguise? But if he was aboard this ship, would using the voice of a deadman really be a smart choice? Or would it be the smartest choice?

T’Pol spoke, “Captain? Your transmission is very weak. Do you read me?”

A reply. “T’Pol, two to transport.”

The command was relayed to the transporter room, and within seconds, the transporter operator relayed up to them the good news; he had them, and one was the Captain. And it truly was him, a human biosign. None of them could believe it yet it was all what they’d hoped for. A few minutes later, the Captain came to the bridge. Ensign Sato rushed to him, hugging him, one he returned. Malcolm had stood and walked over, placing a hand on Archer’s upper arm, a handshake too formal and a hug unprofessional. “Welcome home,” he said to the Captain who smiled in return. Malcolm was so relieved to see him, yet so drained, already believing him to be dead.

“We're not quite home yet, but it's good to be back. I guess I have some catching up to do,” and he turned to T’Pol, “Status?”

She informed him of the situation, of Daniels in sick bay, of Trip and Travis, of what they'd discovered about this time. Archer had information to share in return. He wanted to see Daniels, so he left with T’Pol, leaving Malcolm in charge of the bridge. As long as they weren't attacked, he was sure he'd be able to manage.

# # # # # #

Finally, they were home, actually home in their own time. Malcolm, as he had often been recently, was relieved that the ordeal was over. He couldn't wait to just relax, to allow himself to not worry about everything.

Most of the crew had already vacated the ship, but he remained. He'd have to be on Earth soon, a welcome home ceremony, but until that transport left, he was in sick bay again. Phlox seemed less surprised when Malcolm entered for the second time that day, smiling at the lieutenant and coming to meet him at the end of Hayes’s bed. There was one other doctor in the room, but that was all.

“He's fine, you needn't worry.”

“Hard not to,” Malcolm replied, “but I'm glad he's alright, things could've been much worse.”

“Very possible, but they aren’t. Come, we have to get ready to leave.”

“I already have everything I need, just back in my quarters, all packed. I’ll stay a moment longer.”

Phlox nodded and walked away. Malcolm didn’t miss the look of concern in his colleagues eyes, understandable though given the circumstances. He couldn’t stay long, he knew that, but he’d be back aboard later after the ceremony and seeing his family; he was sure his sister was the most excited to see him. Hayes was out of his MACO pants, not in loose grey sweats, looking more comfortable not that it mattered. He was still on his back, but his injuries had been redressed, the bandages white instead of fading and staining red. He was looking better than he had, but he was still unconscious and his life at risk, just less pale. Feeling eyes trained to his back, he turned, catching the young doctor off guard, who quickly returned to his console across the room. He decided to leave, come back later when it was empty.

Returning to his quarters, he quickly grabbed his back and made his way towards the docking hatch. He ran into Phlox on his way, his body swamped with bags and boxes and containers of varying sizes. “Would you mind helping lieutenant?” Malcolm didn’t mind, and took bags from Phlox; he had so many, possibly too many.

“Packed enough doctor?” He said in a jest, and Phlox chuckled.

“I can’t leave them here, who else would feed them?” He had a point, and he continued, “I can assure you I have good people watching over the Major.”

Malcolm smiled a little. “It’s appreciated.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it, let me know with a comment if you like, or kudos too; it honestly means a lot.
> 
> Also, I don't know when the next chapter will be, but hopefully soon.


End file.
